


the first son

by aizono



Category: Kaze no Tani no Naushika | Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 01:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizono/pseuds/aizono
Summary: "But if it were created to be a weapon and nothing more, why was it’s first thoughts that of its ‘mama’?"-----A short fic I wrote on a whim about Nau and her 'son'. Spoilers for the manga galore + some theorizing on the nature of her son's origin.





	the first son

_“Mama. You really are my Mama.”_

Before she was queen, Nausicaä didn’t think much of the God Warrior skeletons that towered above the trees of the Sea of Corruption. The sight of them, shadows of the destructive machines they once were, had been present throughout her life. Even she had found it hard to believe that the centuries-old structures were once the bringers of the flames that wrapped the world in the Seven Days of Fire. They were simply relics, the fact they had once been alive in some sense was foreign to her. 

She will always, however, remember her first time seeing one. It was her first journey to the Sea of Corruption as a windrider, accompanied by her father. At first she’d thought it was simply an oddly-shaped tree since she’d only seen it from afar but her father, heeding her questions, opted to show instead of tell her what the strange shape was. 

She’d climbed up it from the inside before realizing what it was. It took looking out across the Sea and desert that surrounded it from the dead God Warrior’s eyes for it all to fall together. Awe was the first and strongest emotion that held her; how strong, how enduring this child must have been for its body to survive so long! The young princess felt so small yet so significant; this God Warrior, which had unleashed to much destruction that the world had fallen into decay, had died along with all its brothers while her own ancestors lived. 

Nausicaä was quiet when she reunited with her father on the forest floor. For a second, before he realized she was back, Nausicaä saw him staring at his stiff, swollen hand in silence. Her awe of the God Warrior swiftly dissipated as her father fumbled his glove back on upon noticing her return. 

Her ancestors survived the God Warriors’ attack but her family was dying from the aftermath. 

_“I’m afraid, Mama. I can’t see you. Where are you?”_

The object Rastel had given Nausicaä before she died was far more dense than imagined. When held it felt as if it weighed her entire arm down to the earth, pulling her. Looking back she felt stupid for forgetting that she had it on her person when Kushana arrived in the Valley looking for the object in question. It had been right there in her pouch, if the wormhandlers’ worms found it she should’ve known she had it long before. 

But she felt another weight to it, one that none others had commented on so she had kept to herself. There were times when she would hold it in her hand to ground her, to remind her of her goals and her reasons for them, only to feel a shudder creep up her arm and spread across her body. 

The first time it happened she had jumped and dropped it. The second she held on and found out that the object made her shudder in a slow beat. Beat… Beat…….. Beat… Beat…….. Beat… Beat…….. and so on until she couldn’t handle it anymore and put it down. 

Nausicaä would not lie if asked how she felt about handing it back to Asbel but she would avoid her inner feelings. On the outside, she had fulfilled Rastel’s dying wish and with that given her soul the weightlessness to fly with the God of Wind, free from the chains of unfulfilled promises. 

On the inside, she was relieved to be rid of the unnerving, almost sickening, aura she sensed from it. It was like none other she had encountered before, even the simplest, most base children had a mind of some sort. This object had none yet it still somehow lived, she was sure of it. It had no mind and thus could not experienced suffering, it had not experienced suffering and thus had no mind. 

And yet it lived. She knew it. She had felt something in the object that was alive. But how could something that could not feel nor think in any way be alive?

_“I am Ohma. Arbitrator and warrior… and judge. He who metes out justice.”_

Being a mother was terrifying. Especially so when your ‘child’ is a newborn warrior who held untold, inhuman power in its grasp. Especially so when it appeared to be intelligent, to have a personality, meaning that its brothers must have been the same. Especially so when its poisonous light infects you more and more every passing moment and it doesn’t even realize. 

Especially so when you fear what would happen when it realizes you don’t see it as your child. That you closed your heart for the first time in years upon naming it so that it wouldn’t find out. 

Ohma is not Nausicaä’s child, she has none. When she speaks of other living creatures as children she means them as children of the world, not of herself. Her family, friends, herself are all children. It wouldn’t make sense if she was her own child, would it? 

Before she’d left with Ohma, a soldier had asked Nausicaä if Chikuku was her son. Even though he was Dorok-looking, the soldier had commented, given Nausicaä’s tendency to mingle with folk of all backgrounds, he wouldn’t be surprised if the father was Dorok. Sons inherit their father’s looks and their mother’s personalities, after all. Vice versa for daughters. 

She had been too taken aback to reply and thankfully the soldier was called away before the space between the question and her answer became too wide to be excused by her thinking it over. 

Now, as the God Warrior bends space around itself to fly at speeds unattainable by man or insect, the soldier’s words come to her once more. Ohma has no father, not traditionally. It was created by man to be a weapon so such questions should not come to mind. 

But if it were created to be a weapon and nothing more, why was it’s first thoughts that of its ‘mama’? 

Though she feels too weak to visibly react, Nausicaä’s mind feels as if a bomb has gone off, shattering the closed windows that had held back her understanding. Was an imprinting instinct created solely so that the God Warriors would be easier to order around? To send off and decimate upon simple command? Ohma’s fear of disappointing Nausicaä like a child with its parent could so clearly be linked to fearing disobeying her, like a soldier with a superior.

Just because it’s closed doesn’t stop Nausicaä’s heart from swelling with pity and shame. She is using Ohma like those of long ago had used the God Warriors for their own foolish war. Once the God Warriors of old had lived and developed longer like Ohma did they realize they were being taken advantage of by their parents, those meant to protect them. Then the Seven Days of Fire occurred. 

She will not do that with Ohma. When the time is right, she will tell him everything and let him decide what he wishes to do. She feels he's proven that he's capable of deciding things for himself by now.

Despite the deadly yellow glow of them, the lights Ohma produces just for Nausicaä’s sake are so warm in contrast with the freezing cold just outside. Nausicaä allows herself to rest to the rhythm of his slow heart.

Beat… Beat…….. Beat… Beat…….. Beat… Beat…….. 

_“Mother, I want to see you, but my eyes… I’m just happy that you are well.”_

Initially Nausicaä believed that the inner crypt had fallen into darkness upon the death of the Master of the Crypt and prepared herself for guiding her way around using her hands and ears. Then she realized that the body of the late Vai Emperor of Torumekia was simply blocking her view. Upon easing herself out from under him- May the God of Wind carry him up and out of this death-filled crypt- a familiar shock of yellow light assaulted her eyes. 

Ohma. 

The scent of blood filled her nose and infected her lungs, making her dig deep into her control so as to not choke on air and worry Ohma. She didn’t know how much of it was the Master’s or Ohma’s. 

He calls out to her and she replies, wading her way through the deep blue river that separates them without a second thought. Her heart had been pried open by the Master previously so it was now bared for Ohma to see but she didn’t care. She just had to be near him, to comfort him, to reassure him. 

A large hand lifts her from the blood and it’s only Ohma’s scared voice that stops her from crying. Even now as he dies Ohma places her before himself. What a kind child. What a strong, enduring child!

_“I’m unsure, mother. Have I become a good person?”_

He is too weak to peer into her heart, perhaps he was never able to in the first place. It doesn’t matter, she wants the final words he hears to make him happy. 

“Ohma, you are my son and I am very proud of you. You are a brave warrior, proud and pure of heart.” Her voice breaks. “And… you are so gentle.” 

A sob rises from her throat and out of her mouth, with large, heavy tears falling down her cheeks soon after. Her head falls as she gives into her emotions, trying to hide from Ohma's unblinking stare to stop him from seeing her like this. In her despair she wonders; will the God of Wind take a God Warrior under his wing?

_“Mother… Don’t… Cr….”_

She prays He will. She prays He will so that she can see her son and fly with him on the winds again.


End file.
